Page 135 of Blue Moon Mistress

He hooks his finger in the front of my underwear, sliding his finger down my skin. “At some point, it might be smarter to just stop wearing these at all.”

“They’re useful sometimes.”

“Sure.” It doesn’t sound like an agreement as he slides them down my legs.

Draping them over the arm of the chair, he tugs me forward.

“Maybe you’d rather—”

I don’t finish that sentence. The look Thomas shoots me makes the words die in my throat.

“I told you this was my favorite.” He grins at me from the floor. “Let me give thanks.”

“Just don’t hurt your knees.”

And then, I stop thinking about knees.

Thomas worships me with his mouth, hand flat on my stomach, holding me down.

He watches me as his tongue strokes and teases and swirls, and I lose myself in those blue eyes.

The creak of the front door pricks at my hearing, but I don’t move, I can’t contemplate trying to stop this. The way his gaze shifts, even if it’s only momentarily… I know he heard it too.

But he doesn’t stop either. His focus shifts and I have to screw my eyes shut as he presses his fingers into me and that wicked tongue flicks at my clit… My hips rock against him and then, he sucks my clit hard enough I want to fly off the couch and I come so loudly, I’m sure the windows rattle.

When I come down, those windows show me the first glimpse of our audience.

“God damnit, Johnny. Why did you put chilies in our breakfast?” Chase’s scolding holds a laugh.

“Because I’m really shitty at planning, apparently.”

“No wonder Thomas had cereal.” Joshua chuckles as he leans against the door jamb. “It wasn’t a dig at your cooking, he was scheming.”

The grin Thomas wears as he helps me to my feet tells me that’sexactlywhat he was doing.

“Now that we’re all here,” Chase takes my hand from Thomas and pulls me against him, kissing me so deeply I can’t help but arch against him.

When he lets me go, I take a deep breath and have to close my eyes and try to keep my mind from running wild.

“We brought you a gift.” Johnny holds up a drooping and sad little monstera with a cautious smile on his lips. “Or maybe just a job, but I hoped…”

“It’s great. Let’s see if we can revive the poor thing.”

Taking it from him, I go straight to the kitchen sink.

“See,” Johnny whispers and I see him nudge Joshua with his elbow. “I told you she’d love it.”

I put it with the cinnamon basil—it’s sprung back to life, but the straight stalk only has a few leaves back on it so far. I’d guess it needs another three weeks before it is ready to find its way into a new pot without dying from the shock.

The sad boy they brought me though… He needs to go straight into a new pot.

While I pull him free and wash the dirt from his roots, I hear them trying to sort out logistics for how they want to work out sleeping arrangements. Turning the living room into what amounts to a pillow fort is highest on the list and I’m happy to go along with that suggestion.

“Um… is that going to be okay?” Johnny asks from the counter beside me.

I know it’s startling, but… Sometimes, they need a fresh start with fresh soil and a root trim before they can make it back to the land of the living.

I hold up the plant to show him the chunk of roots that are black, not from the soil that once clung to them, but from the rot that had taken hold.

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